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Paradiso: Ch. 1
CHAPTER I The Bard's Beer Inn I flung open the wet, wooden door's of the bar, my hands covered in grime and rain water. It was lightly packed; maybe four tables full out of twenty. People of all sizes, shapes, and colors littered the tavern, with half-eaten plates and empty mugs of beer being the most common thing in sight. It was late at night, meaning the drunks had all but slobbered home or into the gutters of Nassau. The floating, robotic red lanterns hovered high up in the rafters, sending a somewhat evil, dim glow down into the bar. I walked forward, navigating through the wooden tables of the bar. My boots creaked on the old, oak wood floor as I approached the bar counter. My eyes darted here and there, careful to avoid any wondering eyes of the pirates and scumbags that were enjoying their midnight meals. Out of all the fancy, robotic things that littered the city of Nassau, the Bard's Beer Inn was the last remaining trace of old humanity. Wooden tables, wooden chairs, and regular, untampered beer made this one of the biggest hot spots in the city. I knew all eyes were on me- a young "lad" as they would call me. But I was ready. I had a knife in my pocket for any bugger who tried to mess with me... A young woman stood behind the bar, her porky face covered in grime and sweat. A red bandana was wrapped around her head, pushing back her long, blonde hair. Her eyes were a dull, storm gray, matching the revealing outfit she was dressed in. I could tell she was wearing heels because every time she moved there was a loud "click"! A rag was attached to her hand, sweeping it rather aggressively across the glistening bar counter. Setting myself down on an old, rusty iron stool, I placed my hands on the counter and looked up at her. "One beer please," I said, waiting for her to respond. Instead of serving me, she glared at me; as if I had just insulted her skimpy outfit. "Like hell," she scoffed, continuing to clean the counter rigorously. I snapped my fingers silently, catching her attention as well as another glare. "Excuse me?" "How old do you think you are kid?" she said, sniffling a laugh. "No alcohol for minors. Read the signs on the way in, 'mkay honey?" In the blink of an eye I had pulled out fifty galactic credits and slapped them hard on the counter in front of her. "Beer. Please." Her gray eyes widened at the sight of so much money on a tip. I could practically see the new pair of shoes being bought in her mind. The waitress nodded without another word and soon I had a frosty mug of golden beer in my hands. I sipped cautiously as the pirates began to leave. I was here for one reason, and one reason only. If I was to get a lead on to where I could find the first member of my team, it would be here. The Bard's Bee Inn wasn't just called its name for a reason. It was a true namesake: a place for storytellers and cold, hard beer. Finally, the clock struck one in the morning. All of the scumbags and idiot pirates were now gone. Now it was the bards' turn to fill the bar. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the large huddle of men preparing themselves for the stories of a lifetime. I perked up my ears, my vision kept forward as I sipped my bear. Suddenly there was a loud clearing of the throat, and someone spoke. "Welcome home boys," the scratchy, hoarse voice said. "Been a long year Spring, hasn't it?" There was a loud "Aye!" from behind me. "Are you all ready for tonight's tale?" the voice cuckeled happily. "Aye!" the listeners chanted once more. "See here, boys," the voice whispered low, but not low enough to hide his voice from my ears. "I've been gettin' word 'round here about an assassin; and not just any assassin...a ninja." The low murmurs that followed made me sure that this wasn't going to be a pleasantly happy story. "A ninja?" one of the listeners said, confused. "Like...from Japan?" "Aye," the bard hissed softly, grinding his nails into the table. "They call him The Spitfire. He wields a deadly gun that can shoot streams of flame from it's barrels...like magic. He only takes money from the highest Japanese lords...and he's never failed a hit." The crowd was silent. "My mates back in Havana told me that someone had asked them to take a hit on him," the bard said, his voice somewhat shaky. "They had agreed, for the price was high. But as soon as they read The Spitfire's hit-and-miss count...they had hauled a** out of there and made for Peru..." "Which mates?" someone asked. "Ragot and Taylor," the man cringed. The crowd gasped. I held my grip on my mug tight, my beer nearly gone. I was getting so much information from this one tale...now if only they'd spit up the exact location. "They say he's a..." the bard hesitated, as if what he was about to say scared him, "They say he's a...demigod..." The last part flew off his lips like butter; quick and easy. The silence that followed was a long one, and for a moment I thought that they might have discovered my eavesdropping. However, the bard slowly began to speak again. "They say that he's a demigod- ya know. One of those magic folk..." the bard said, breathing deeply. "Call 'em the Bane of Kyoto, or something like that..." I nearly fell out of my seat. I didn't dare turn around, for fear of them approaching me. Instead, I remained in my sloppy, on-the-edge-of-the-seat position...and pretended to be drunk. Setting the glass down carefully, I wobbled pass the bard and his crowd, not daring to look up once. As I approached the wet, wooden doors of The Bard's Beer Inn, I held my breath in suspense and anticipation...I knew that one of them would just so happen to turn around... And nothing happened. As soon as I escaped through the other side of the push-pull doors, I sprinted down the street, leaving the Bar out of sight. The cobblestones were wet, the drones still hovering high above the city. Rain poured down like a hail storm- violently and constantly. As I turned the corner of the upcoming block, I stopped to catch my breath. Hands on my wet knees, I breathed heavily, the cold mist riding off my lips like a white stallion. So Kyoto was my next stop? I'd never been to Japan. I'd read stories about how it used to be full of technology, but had recently gone back to it's ancient, Shinto roots. Whatever that meant. If I was going to have any chance of stopping the threat known as Paradiso, I ''needed ''to find The Spitfire. If I could get him on my side, this quest would go much faster than anticipated. But first thing was first. I needed a ride. Category:Paradiso Category:Bladewood 2.0